Never Dine Alone

I have a bad habit of inviting strangers to dinner. I don’t like to eat alone. I love traveling alone. I love going to the movies alone. I love living alone (which is why I’m strongly considering separate penthouses when I do finally settle down). There is nothing that bonds people more than eating together, well maybe prison; I’ll have to let you know how that theory tests out. It’s why we go to dinner on dates. It’s why we order food in for business meetings. It’s why you sit down as a family for dinner. It’s universal. And that’s how I ended up inviting two separate strangers, dining alone at Michelin Starred, Nahm, to our table for dinner. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m waking up at 5:28 AM sharp these days. Always two minutes before the alarm. Today we went to Damneon Saduak, one of Bangkok’s three floating markets. Most people who have traveled outside of the US, have experienced the kick-back pit stops you encounter while doing tours. I saw this a lot in Peru—you scheduled a tour to see X and you find out once you’re on the bus that you are stopping one or two other places. The vendors at these shops benefit from the bus loads of tourists stopping in and making the occasional purchase and, in return, give a monetary kickback to the tour company. So we weren’t entirely shocked when we found out we were stopping at a coconut farm enroute to the market. 

On the way to the coconut farm we passed plots and plots of salt farms. Farmers sell bags of salt roadside very inexpensively. At the coconut farm we had a brief 5 minute introduction to how coconut sugar and coconut oil were made. There was a small orchid farm, but on the whole it was unmentionable. As we boarded the bus, we saw they were selling plates with pictures of our faces they had taken right when we had arrived. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering all of you a plate with my face on it. Should arrive in 7-10 business days. Please only eat tacos on them though—fine china after all.

Finally we arrived at an alleyway! Well a canal really, but everything in Thailand is down some alley. At the canal we boarded a small motor boat and zipped past Thai houses as we made our way to the market. Once at the market, we saw everything imaginable—Thai dishes, chicken skewers, fruit, springrolls, crepes, and coconut ice cream were being sold in small long boats. Souvenirs dangled from waterside shops and piled up inside of longboats paddling their way to tourists. We transferred to a smaller paddle boat and did a 30 minute canal cruise chatting up vendors and sampling street, well water, foods.

Instead of taking the bus back down, we took a river cruise down the river, docking where we started.

Since this was our last full day in Bangkok, we had a full afternoon seeing the last few sites we wanted to see. We took a cab from the dock to Wat Arun, the Temple of the Dawn (I had posted photos earlier from when we watched the sunset behind the temple from across the river). Wat Arun is a gorgeous white temple on the riverside. We had heard that you could climb the temple halfway for a scenic view and couldn’t wait to get into our MC Hammer pants (more on that later) and climb up. To our dismay,  the temple stairs were closed due to an accident. 

You never leave a trip without a few inside jokes to tell—jokes that could only be funny to the people who were involved. We had toured Wat Pho, Temple of the Reclining Buddha, on our first day in the city. We managed to see almost everything the temple has to offer. When we arrived at Wat Pho, jet lagged and dehydrated, but fully fueled by adrenaline, we made our way to the center temple. Inside, we sat without shoes and with our feet pointing away from Buddha, while others prayed. For five full minutes we stared at the Buddha and contemplated why he did not appear to be reclining. Antonia started convincing herself that he was actually reclined, just slightly. In my mind, I’m envisioning this guy kicked back in a lazy boy position. It was only later,as I was browsing back through our guide book that I realized we hadn’t seen the Reclining Buddha at all. In fact, we had missed an entire corner of the temple. Did I mention she’s the third largest in the world…and we missed her…completely…without realizing it?

As it turns out the Reclining Buddha isn’t reclining at all, she’s full fledged laying down, else she was out partying the night before and was lying down on the job when we saw her. It really is a site to see and probably my favorite Buddha I’ve seen in the 100 or so I’ve now seen in Thailand. She is massive, gold, and has beautiful detail. I was definitely thankful we paid, twice, to see her.

I know Buddha is male and Buddha in the sitting position appears to be masculine, but to me the Reclining Buddha appears female. I find myself altering pronouns depending on the version I’m speak to.

Exhausted we made our way back to the hotel where I met a couple in Thailand from Arizona. We covered everything from travel to gun violence in schools to our favorite sites in Bangkok. Having showered and written my postcards (a friend recently told me I’m singlehandedly keeping the post card industry in business), we jumped in a cab heading for Nahm, the famed Thai Michelin Star restaurant based in the Bangkok Metropolitan Hotel.

Nahm is nestled in the hotel overlooking their luxurious pool—which immediately catches your eye. When we walked in, I noticed a guy browsing a menu alone. Given it was a hotel, I naturally assumed he was there on business. We were at an expensive hotel, in an expensive restaurant, so I assumed the likelihood of him being an ax murderer seemed possible, but unlikely. Having met the criteria for an invitation—unlikely ax murderer, eating alone, I walked over and invited him to join us. (Somewhere, likely on business, he is reading this and laughing).

Evert, we found out, is a VP in sales and procurement and calls the Netherlands home. He travels frequently for work, which I did my very best to not sound too jealous of. He was heading to Kuala Lumpur and did a quick stop in Bangkok. Evert is a self-proclaimed foodie, so once him and Antonia got to talking about food, I, and the entire city of Bangkok, became invisible. Thankfully Evert’s food expertise, also included wine expertise, and he had visited Nahm on a few other occasions, which translated to him being able to suggest some wonderful dishes and even better wine.

In the end, the food at Nahm was not my favorite. While I could appreciate the intricacies of the dishes and the quality of the foods and preparation, the flavors were very different to the Thai food I had enjoyed thus far. Of all of the dishes, the least interesting seemed to be an egg omelet that Evert had suggested. No other ingredients, just eggs in a grilled banana leaf. It turned out to be my favorite. Great flavors and the grilling added a slight charred taste. (Somewhere, likely in the twin bed next to mine, Antonia is reading this and laughing at my lack of culinary knowledge).

As we neared dessert, I made my way to the ladies room, only barely acknowledging that there was in fact another gentleman dining alone. Why not make it a party! Without hesitation, Scott, a private chef on a yacht, joined what was becoming the hot table at Nahm. Even though I was surrounded by three food enthusiasts, I managed to derail them to topics other than names of spices (which I don’t remember) and the way food feels on your tongue (which I don’t care about). The night continued getting livelier with conversations ranging from politics to bed-in-a-box startups and several conversational pit-stop inbetween.

Unfortunately, Evert had an early flight to Kuala Lumpur, so he retired to his room, but not before, very kindly, and unexpectedly, picking up the check. We agreed to meet again when business took him to New York or London. We officially closed Nahm down, being the last patrons to leave. My theory on never dining alone is stronger than ever.

Scott, Antonia, and I (after Scott lead us on a wild goose chase for a bar that didn’t exist—yes, I’m still blaming you, Scott!) ended up heading down to Khao San Road, and the least imaginable thing happened—it was closing up! This is the equivalent of the Vegas strip closing up at 2 am. Luckily a neighboring street was still playing late 90’s hits and serving drinks. Antonia found a massage place across from the bar and got an outdoor foot massage while Scott and I compared diving photos and our favorite quotes. It’s funny the things that bond you.

Night Bangkok. See you at the end.